Snuffy and Sodie and the Cowboy Code
by Wallace Mcrae

"Now I ain't scared a' grizzly bears,"
old Snuffy says one day,
"'N wolverines 'n catamounts
to me is pure child's play.
Them trantulas and scorpions?
I'll prance around 'em bold!
But partner, them dang rattlesnakes,
they make my blood run cold.
I lariats my bed each night.
My boots is tall bullhide.
I don't like be in' on the ground,
shoot yes! That's why I ride.
Despite these nifty safety steps,
I knows that I'll git bit.
I cogitates on remedies
to use if I git hit.
My old Case knife is razor sharp
to slash acrost each hole
Where that bugger's fangs went,
still, it chills me to the soul
To plan self-mutilation,
although it's necessary.
'N suckin' that there pizen out
to me is awful scary.
I reckon I could do it,
if my life was on the line.
'Cause I 'member when that critter bit
my hoss, sweet Adeline.
Now that pony was a kicker
of that there's paltry doubt.
No man on earth could suck his leg
to git the pizen out.
So his eyes they glassied over
'n sweat jist drenched his hide.
He shuddered, then he staggered,
'n I stood there as he died.'
Sometimes I lays awake at night
a-ponderin' on this.
'N I gits to speculatin'
on this hypothesis:
Say now, Sodie, jist fer instance,
we're out hossback some day,
'N old Cookie's beans has grabbed me
in a most emphatic way.
Now I got no time to tarry,
no sir! I'm in a rush.
But propriety it dictates
that I got to find some brush.
Well, I gits there, but jist barely.
There's no time to scout around.
And say – in this brush's a viper
all coiled up on the ground.
Now I don't see him, but he sees me
'n he feels crowded some,
So he calculates trajectory
'n bites me on the bum.
So here I am all wounded
but I knows what must be done,
So fishin' out my sharp Case knife,
I carves X's on my bun.
But this I do by braille, you see,
I'm operatin' blind,
As I carves out love and kisses
all over my behind.
But I cain't suck the pizen out
'cause folks ain't built for that.
Then I thinks about you, Sodie,
   'n I yells 'n waves my hat.
So you rides up, 'n I tells you
the awful fix I'm in.
I'm checkin' all my bets to you.
Jist you can save my skin.
My eyes is glazin' over now.
My sun is sinkin' fast.
I'm remorseful of my sin-filled life;
regret my pintoed past.
This nightmare here's well-water clear
I pitcher in my mind.
I'm dyin' there. The question is,
now, Sodie, could you find
It in yer heart to help a pal
whose friendship is devout
'N save my life by suckin' all
that rattler's pizen out?
'Cause the Cowboy Code, it tells
the obligations of a friend.
It says, I quote, 'A pal must be
faithful to the end.'"
Well, Sodie rolled and lit a smoke
and said, "Yore right about
The Cowboy Code, but it don't
cover suckin' pizen out.
That 'faithful to the end,' you quote
I'd say is misdefined.
It dang sure don't require of me
to tend to yore behind.
If you git bit, I'll fan yer face
'n help the time pass by.
I'll speak soft words, but pardner,
yore damn sure gonna die!"